Lay Aside Your Crown
by Meddwl
Summary: Edmund is back in Tashbaan and Rabadash is Tisroc. Intervention on the behalf of justice ends with the King alone and wounded in the poorest section of the city...
1. Chapter 1 - Instinct

Nota Bene: I am not sure how long the Golden Age lasted, but I would hazard a guess that it was more than twenty years long at least, or it hardily qualifies as an "age".

* * *

 **Instinct**

 _"What each man is in Your eyes, thus he is, and no more."  
\- Francis of Assisi  
_

* * *

Edmund, Knight and King of Narnia had seldom been in worse straits. Alone, separated from his escort by half an army and two thirds of Tashbaan, barefoot, bleeding and starved he looked nothing like the handsome young king that landed in Calormen but a scant week earlier.

Tashbaan had been fully as beautiful and dangerous as he had remembered from that ill-fated visit two long years ago. Much had happened in the intervening time, the old Tisroc was dead (so much for living forever) and Rabadash, his own worst enemy now reigned.

Rabadash had a long memory and cunning and cruelty to match it.

Edmund was one of that rare variety, both a good king and a good man and it was seldom that he found it in his heart to despise another, be he king or peasant for had not the King over all Kings seen fit to forgive even a traitor? But the Calormen prince stirred both anger and disgust in his heart, he had played with Susan, threatened her honor and caused the deaths of both Narnians and Archenlanders. Deaths that were entirely due to his uncurbed pride and anger...

Edmund had found it in his heart to forgive him and Aslan had offered him mercy, but there were times when he wished he had just separated the treacherous donkey's head from his body when he had a chance, mercy be hanged.

Times like the present when he found himself, limping, flogged and alone thanks to his dear old friend, Rabadash Tisroc (heavens forbid he lived forever.)

He paused before he could take further satisfaction from mentally beheading the Tisroc (did he really believe he would live forever), he was last with a right to question Aslan's mercy, if He chose to do so than He was surely right and Edmund would abide by whatever his King commanded.

He had wandered during his lengthy introspection and now he looked about warily. Tashbaan was built on an oppressive hierarchy of the rich over the poor both figuratively and quite literally. He was now standing, weaponless and wounded among the poor, the poorest of the poor of Calormen. Bright, deadly, beautiful and barbaric Calormen, age-old enemy and rival of Narnia.

Edmund wondered whether Rabadash had planned this out completely or simply watched smiling as Edmund stumbled through his hoops and tricks, enjoying the extra excitement of an unplanned interlude for his guest.

There were people standing about now, silent, voiceless shadows watching this newcomer. They made no move, lifted no hand against him, yet. Edmund could nearly feel their festering anger as it washed over him, nearly touch the waves of hatred that radiated from every cobble and secret alley until he felt faint from the intensity of it.

Slowly he walked on wondering when the end of the maze would be in sight. He had escaped the little whitewashed cell where Rabadash had kept him. If he could but make it to the grand palace where he should have been laughing at some dull Calormen proverb or sipping some exotic ice…

Shouts rang out in the heavy air and he stumbled on more swiftly. They were boys, children ranging from nine to twelve. Wild shouts rent the air as they swung their dry sticks in the mock battle that boys of their age fancied. Had Peter and he truly fought wars at that age? They seemed so little, frail, underfed, under clothed.

His heart ached fiercely as he contemplated their plight, no matter that they were not his people, not Narnians, all men were Aslan's and he was Aslan's servant…

One of the boys was down.

The others leapt forward their sticks falling with fearful abandon on the child. Before he even realized what he was doing Edmund was down on hands and knees, batting away the sticks with bleeding hands as he tried to check the boy for serious injuries.

The game stopped, the children watched astonished as the ragged youth knelt on the ground anxiously feeling for broken bones. He was tall, but under the dirt his hair was fair and golden and his skin pale.

"Barbarian!"

"Narnian!"

"Northerner!"

He ignored the harsh cries and continued his examination. The boy was not much hurt and he began to wonder if any had ever been meant. It was too late to regret his intervention though so he stood as gracefully as possible and looked the tallest boy in the eye.

* * *

I suppose this could be considered a sequel to Not For All the Jewels in Tashbaan, but it can stand alone. And before anyone asks "Why in the Dancing Lawn did he go BACK to Calormen after the last disaster?" please wait for the next chapter...

Shire Rose


	2. Chapter 2 - Truce

Nota Bene: Darzath is the name I gave to "The Tisroc" whose name Lewis kindly withholds…

* * *

 **Truce**

 _"Peace begins with a smile.."_  
 _\- Mother Teresa of Calcutta_

* * *

Edmund's knees felt weak and disjointed as he tried remain standing. His deep grey eyes bored into the Calormen boy's trying to understand what he found there. Anger, sorrow, fear, longing –longing for what? All of them were present, but as he watched something else entered , something that he could not fathom though he had seen it before.

Ashriz stood uneasily before this stranger, wondering.

He was tall, or would have been if his shoulders were not so bowed as though a great weight rested upon them. He would have been fair of face but for the dirt and blood and bruises that marked him. He would have been young but for the wisdom that shone so incongruously in his eyes. And still the obvious suffering could not hide the light that lurked in the depths of his eyes or the nobility of spirit that hung about him.

He stared uncertainly, feeling his control slip away, the youth was outnumbered and alone, probably lost and clearly having been deliberately wounded but the air around him hung heavy with might and power that was not his own and his eyes showed no regret for his decision.

Ashriz supposed that someone who had made through whatever torment had been laid on him with a spirit so unbroken and free would hardily fear what a pack of children could do.

Edmund smiled, reaching down and laying one hand protectively on the child's naked brown shoulder.

Despite himself, Ashriz found himself liking this odd, limping young man with stripes across his shoulders and the bearing of a king.

Edmund sensed the change in the heavy air and breathing a soundless prayer to Aslan, he stepped forward slightly to offer the Calormen boy his hand. The sky went black about the edges of his vision and then closed in on him with frightening speed as he fell heavily to the ground.

* * *

Edmund looked about the bright court at Cair Paravel in astonishment as his eyes fell on the forms of his siblings.

Peter looked at him uneasily and handed over the thick, gilt parchment that he held. Edmund unrolled it slowly, taking in the Calormen seal and the arms of the Tisroc surmounting it.

He could not help the smile that twitched at his lips as he began reading.

 _Darzath Tisroc to the High King Peter, Queen Susan, King Edmund and Queen Lucy._

 _Greetings and All Manner of Blessings upon the Land of Narnia and her Most Gracious Monarchs,_

 _May the Blessings of Tash, the Inexorable be upon you now and always…_

Edmund grinned broadly, "I bet he wishes they were since they would probably leave us dead or dying!"

Lucy laughed but Peter and Susan looked grave and he read on.

 _In as much as there has been some ill-will between our two peoples for as long as can be remembered and it does not please the gods that such a great evil should be left forever unremedied, We ask you to return this gesture of peace._

 _To Our inexpressible sorrow it is known to us that Our own son, once called prince most undeservedly has had a hand in the recent degeneration of the mutual respect and good feelings that still existed. It is with great sorrow that We realized his deed though he hid from Our sight at the time._

 _It pleases the gods that such foolishness should not forever part our two peoples and We ask that you send a representative to conduct mutual negotiations._

Edmund looked up puzzled.

"I know Ed" said Peter, "He is simply repeating what he wrote after the attack, as we know he was well aware of Rabadash's treachery."

"Read on" sighed Susan, "He asks for you in particular…"

 _As the skill of King Edmund called the Just at such negotiations and his wisdom and honor are known to be without blemish We ask that he give of his valuable time that peace may be established and that future bloodshed and war may be done away with._

 _Any and all your representatives will naturally be accorded all due respect and immunity while they sojourn under Our protection. In token of our pledge we offer the person of Our own son, Prince Haszen in pledge of the truth of Our intentions…_

"And Prince Haszen is here in Narnia?" asked Edmund.

"He is in truth" returned Susan, "I recognized him at once."

"It is unlike the Tisroc (he must be nearing the end of forever) to offer anything without some other motive…" Lucy pointed out, "I feel as though he is hiding something."

"Perhaps" said Edmund slowly, "Yet, could it be that he truly wishes peace? It is possible that our enmity is thwarting his trade in Galma, Terebinthia and the Lone Islands and he _is_ offering his son, the Crown Prince as surety."

Susan winced

"He no doubt knows that it is unlikely that we would exact vengeance should you be harmed."

Peter straightened "We will ask the guidance of Aslan this night and if you are still willing by morning, Edmund, bring peace between our peoples."

The room swirled about him as he knelt before the High King, and then the blackness swept away his memory.

When he surfaced from the darkness there were faint voices around him. He could tell that they were talking but his foggy mind refused to tell him what they spoke of, and he fell again beneath the waves of blackness.

Slowly he gathered up his energy and determination and pushed himself up. This time the soft whispers began to form into words, then sentences and completed thoughts.

"…Northerner?"

"… if he is a spy!"

"He fell over, as though he could stand no longer…"

"Poor boy, I wonder who did this too him?" Edmund smiled inwardly at the soft, motherly voice as he wondered what it was that made such women worry about him.

Narnia was full of them, all ready and willing to feed, _"Your Majesty is far too skinny for your age!"_ , nurse _, "Don't move a muscle, dear king, I'll have that cut mended in no time at all"_ and scold _"If I catch you on your feet, King Edmund you will be wishing that wolf had bitten your leg off, Majesty or not!"_ him at the slightest provocation. Unfortunately this Calormen woman had _plenty_ of provocation…

He tried answering, but they couldn't seem to hear him so he lay quiet for a moment and then tried to open his eyes. To his surprise they opened easily.

He blinked, the room was dim and dirty and crammed with people. A kind-faced women sat beside him, her grey hair untidy and bedraggled about her wrinkled brown cheeks.

Her face was conveniently turned away leaving him unhindered as he pushed himself into a sitting position.

He opened his mouth to try speaking again, but a strangled croaking noise issued forth instead of the polite _"Thank you for your kindness, might I ask where I am?"_ that he had intended.

The women turned with a gasp and reached for a misshapen mug. Edmund swallowed gratefully as she held it to his lips. It was warm and rather muddy but it was water and at the moment that was all that mattered.

His mind drifted back to his dream, which was not a dream but rather a memory and he wondered anew at the feeling of rightness that had lead him here to begin with. Was this his purpose in Tashbaan?

To be here among these neglected ones of the city? It would not surprise him, Aslan's ways were not the ways of men.

He finished drinking, smiled at the women, and turned to face the rest of the room.

* * *

Thank you to WoodElfJedi, Rose and Psyche, WillowDryad and LadyOfAnfalas for the lovely reviews and to everyone who favorited or is following this story.

Shire Rose


	3. Chapter 3 - Neighbors

A bit later than I planned but such is life...

* * *

 **Neighbors**

"The Bible tells us to love our neighbors,  
and also to love our enemies;  
probably because generally they are the same people."  
― G.K. Chesterton

* * *

To Edmund's still blurring vision, the tiny room was a sea of people or more importantly of faces. Edmund had learned to read faces in the harshest of schools within a week of first entering Narnia. The memory of a resentful and rather cruel little boy who had once seen all he wished for in the coldly beautiful face of his own worst enemy had remained with him through the years. It no longer stung like an open wound, Aslan had seen to that but it did not disappear either. It was like an old scar, faded and healed but a warning against future mistakes.

Now, faces were everything to him. A man might comport himself with dignity but his face, his eyes would tell of vanity or cowardice or any of the other hundreds of faults that had plagued the Sons of Adam and Daughters of Eve since the Fall.

He taught himself to read expressions, lines of care or cruelty, the truth from mens' fragile faces. Animals were harder, they after all were not Children of Adam and Eve but he flattered himself that he was learning.

Without conscious thought he turned from face to face, impressing them in his memory. His siblings often teased him that he could remember every face that he had ever seen in two worlds and the name that went with it and they had yet to be proved wrong.

This particular sea of faces made him uneasy, all about were marks of cruelty or carelessness, of greed, of guilt and of anger. But there _was_ more, he saw hints of mercy, of love and of sorrow, of poverty and of pain – reasons for the evil that was so plainly stamped on so many of the faces.

He saw rage and shame and guilt but most of all curiosity which was no doubt the cause of the crowded room. Curiosity about him, and not all of it healthy.

Alone, in a room full of possible enemies – but he was _meant_ to be here was he not? And not alone, he saw Lucy's face alight with laughter, Peter's hazel eyes full of happiness, Susan's gentle smile, Aslan's golden mane, the warmth of _His_ smile and the love in _His_ unfathomable eyes.

He took his courage in both hands and asked mildly "What would you have of me?"

Someone laughed scornfully from one of the corners. Edmund straightened but said nothing.

There was a smile, a single smile from a girl in the center. Not a cruel smile or a cautious smile, but a genuine smile like his own sisters might have given him. And he wondered to find it in Calormen.

"I am injured and you cared for me, thirsty and you have given me drink" he said slowly turning slightly to face the motherly women before glancing back around the room.

"Tell me what it is that you wish of me and if I may I will aid you."

"Can you feed us? Can you take away disease and poverty? Northerner?" A cold face, frozen hatred from years of abuse and pain.

"What are sufferings to you, Narnian? Your own take care of you, your kings and queens aid you – why would you care for us?" A face dark with anger and disbelief, unwilling to believe in mercy.

"You have only taken from us, what will you return for our care and water?" A hard face, callous and calculating, weighing actions by the clink of coins whether rich or poor.

"Nothing!" A cool touch upon his hot skin and a calm voice, controlled and peaceful no matter the suffering.

"I have given what I have given and he owes neither _me_ nor _you_ anything."

"You are too generous for your own good Myla. Don't expect Tash's blessing for aiding a Narnian." A sneering face, caustic and opinionated.

Edmund listened quietly waiting for the talk to die down, he had discovered quickly the use of keeping silent and simply listening when needed, though royal authority came in quite handy at times. He doubted it would be much use here.

The talk swayed back and forth, breaking out into angry exclamations at times when withheld anger broke free venting itself on the odd stranger's appearance, ancestry and possible motives, or lulling into quiet reminders of loss and pain and hardship.

Edmund knew he shouldn't be surprised, but he had come to associate the Calormenes with the smooth-talking, self-assured Tarkaans and their peacock wives or in rare cases, hidden jewels like Aravis.

These were different altogether, desperate as some of the Narnians had been during the first years of their reign or like the dim memories of people from that other place where he had been a boy. There was more cruelty and carelessness of life, a darker strain of ignorance and superstition coupled with belief in Tash but they were like his own and he could understand and work with them perhaps – if he was given a chance.

The chance came sooner than he had expected and was rather more dangerous than he had anticipated, not that he had thought that _anything_ involving these perilous neighbors would be safe or easy.

The cold faced one, Shinzar turned on him abruptly, his icy voice cutting effortlessly through the din.

"What is your name Narnian and who are you?"

Edmund had told many lies in his life, long ago when practically anyone's word was worth more than his own.

No longer.

There were perhaps as many occasions as he could count on one hand in which he had told untruths and though they had been for the sake of others he still regretted every one.

He was not going to lie to save his own skin, _that_ was certain. Not after Aslan had taught him Truth.

And so he said simply.

"I am King Edmund of Narnia."

* * *

More excitement/adventure in the near future even though this was originally meant as more of a character study, I can't seem to do one without the other. Big thank you to all reviewers, responses coming soon _I promise._ Please bear with my hectic life and tell me what you think...

Shire Rose


	4. Chapter 4 - Deception

Profuse apologies for how late this is, but I have been _very_ busy. And one can only write when one has some sort inspiration. I hope it was worth the wait.

* * *

 **Deception**

 _"I know God won't give me anything I can't handle._  
 _I just wish he didn't trust me so much."_  
\- Mother Teresa

* * *

Edmund had spoken neither loudly or forcefully but the room went silent at his unexpected announcement. Beside him he heard Myla, the kind older women gasp slightly while Shinzar was staring mouth agape.

Edmund hadn't been quite sure what to expect, though threats and general violence for his role in the latest Calormen defeat at Anvard had been on his mind but this strange mixture of anger, fear, bewilderment and faint hope that he saw was confusing.

He understood the anger, he was a king of a nation that had defeated their prince. Fear was also understandable considering that Rabadash clearly hated him and would not take kindly to anyone harboring him. Bewilderment was not unexpected, he called himself a king and yet he was wandering barefoot and wounded in the capital of his greatest enemy.

But the hope baffled him. What did they hope to gain from him? They were Calormenes and he was Narnian, he was a king and they were poor. Gold, silver, a ransom from his siblings or a reward from Rabadash?

Yet he could not see Myla turning him in or holding him to ransom so wherefore the gleam in her eyes?

They were impoverished and miserable, starved and ill-treated by their own people, he was a king in rags. If Edmund had been a cowardly man he would probably not have waited to find out and run right into the arms of the Calormen guards that were already advancing through the streets.

Edmund was neither cowardly nor rash and so he waited for what they would say.

Myla recovered first, she had no difficulty believing that her strange patient was a king, the way he carried himself even injured and fearlessness with which he had spoken his name were all testaments in themselves.

Shinzar's closed with a snap, a hungry look coming into his cold, dead eyes.

"You are King Edmund?" he asked scornfully.

Edmund caught his eye and held it.

"I am King Edmund of Narnia" he repeated softly.

"Why are you here?" It was the man whose face was clouded with anger and mercilessness.

Edmund lifted his eyes for a swift moment to the Eastern sky, or where the Eastern sky would have been had he not been enclosed by wood and stone and said,

"Your Tisroc, Rabadash asked me here to discuss a peace treaty between Narnia and Calormen."

A score of disapproving faces greeted this disclosure.

"Why would the Tisroc want peace?"

"How is it that you are here and not in the palace?"

And Shinzar's "The Tisroc (may he live forever) hates you, Edmund of Narnia. Why would he ask you here to discuss peace when he would rather see Narnia burned and you flogged to death?"

"As you can see" said Edmund wryly. "Rabadash was not interested in talking about peace but rather in your later option, so it is that I am alone and wounded here in Tashbaan. What is it that you wish of me?"

"The Tisroc (may he live forever) would pay well for you no doubt?" suggested the greedy-eyed man looking Edmund over possessively. Edmund tried not to shiver at the gleam in his eyes; here was man who would truly according to the old adage sell his mother for a piece of silver.

"No doubt" he returned quietly.

Heavy feet sounded in the street outside, an ugly tramping of iron-shod boots.

And Edmund was sure that he was lost.

Pandemonium broke out, but it was unlike any that Edmund had ever seen. He had seen troops struggling to regroup after a charge and frenzied squirrels putting out fires and Susan and Lucy when a suitor was announced but he had never see such chaos carried out in absolute silence.

Myla had a basket in her hands, sorting something. Cloth was taken out and women began sewing, men pulled out ill-smelling pipes and one was working with a piece of wood in his hand.

He did not have long to see it though before he found himself shoved roughly into a corner and a pile of old blankets covering him.

Through a break between the blankets he could see the Calormenes lining up innocently as the hard footsteps sounded closer.

"Open in the name of Rabadash Tisroc (may he live forever)!"

The door was immediately swung open and everyone bowed very low. Edmund recognized the leader, Ashkhabad one of Rabadash's most trusted favorites. Edmund knew him to be cruel, merciless and fanatically devoted to Rabadash.

He shifted under the coarse blankets, his back and sides which he had forgotten in the tension and chaos were throbbing vengefully. It was stuffy and cramped and he feared that he might pass out again.

In any case, hiding was highly distasteful to him, he met his enemies head on in clean battle or in counsel but given the circumstances he supposed it couldn't be helped.

"Have you seen a fugitive from the justice of the Tisroc (may he live forever)?"

Shinzar looked up.

"What manner of man is the fugitive?"

Ashkhabad scowled, "He is fair-haired and tall, a northern slave who has greatly displeased our lord."

And still silence hung over the room and none made any move to reveal him. If Edmund had not felt so dizzy he would have wondered that no one had yet turned him over.

The air was becoming hot and difficult to breathe but he heard Myla's motherly voice as he crumpled onto the dirt floor.

"We have seen your fugitive, he is hiding here."

* * *

And things get _very_ interesting indeed.

Not to beg (because I hate when people do) but I know that there are at least 15 of you following this story. I spend long bits of time crafting it and writing it down so please let me know how it was, what you liked or didn't like.

Shire Rose

Character Note: Myla is greatly displeased with the abrupt shift in her character and feels that she should have been given some warning. She categorically refuses to be the cause of Edmund's untimely demise. Unfortunately I cannot inform her that Edmund will live because the white stag is still years away.


End file.
